Handling the Holidays

It's December ... a time of year symbolized by spiritual celebrations around a Savoir in a manger, twinkling lights, traditional carols, bulbous ornaments, snowflakes, a big guy in a red suit. All images that should evoke a smile. It is, a birthday after all, for the most important little child of all time.

I must admit, for me this time of year has been a rollercoaster since Ian died. Some years have been tough, some were ok, some were flat out brutal. It doesn't seem to be about the passage of time, or the fading of or surge of a memory ... it isn't something I've been able to put a label on as of yet. Its a time of year that has meant some changes for me - most of which I anticipate are permanent - I can't imagine it any other way. Some are about trying to filter out unnecessary stimuli (think overplayed holiday music and pushy, unpleasant fellow shoppers), some are about creating a remembrance, and making one very important little child in my life remain a part of my family: My son. It's no wonder people don't know how to navigate our loss ... there are a hundred holiday triggers I could do without, would prefer to do without. Yet a hundred more I pity the person who neglects.

In working with other angel moms (a term coined by moms I've worked with over the years in an online group, tho not embraced by all - I do prefer it), one of the common discussions the first holiday season without their little one is the impending dread that goes with the season when you've lost your child. For me, only one solution provided comfort - the same one that I harp on often, and that so many who haven't lived the loss avoid like the plague: REMEMBER.

So how? How do we do this? It doesn't have to be morbid or dark, scary or cruel, contrary to the perception of the world around us. It may be bitter, but in this case, that's half of a very important word- bittersweet. Difficult, but something you'd have never wanted to miss.... your child's life.

For those of you new to the loss, or those of you who know someone in these shoes, I'm sharing my traditions ... maybe suggestions that can help. Please, feel free to post your own as comments ... I have to think it will be good for other moms to hear ideas:

1. Since he died in 2003, I buy a new ornament in remembrance of Ian each year. There is a rainbow ornament, baseball ornaments, a remembrance ornament, an angel ornament, and this year, a "boy and his dog" ornament. I don't know for how many years I will continue this tradition - maybe always, maybe till what would be his 18th birthday, who knows. But each year, Ian is represented on my tree in a new and special way - and it makes me smile. :)

2. The first year we were without Ian, I brought a candle with me to my parents house - the place where we traditionally celebrated Christmas. It remained lit throughout our family gathering to represent Ian, and in a way have him 'with us'. There is a candle every year now for my little man. And it makes me smile. :)

3. Gifts for other children his age. I've done this more than one way. For a few years, as part of a church activity, I filled a stocking with toys for a little boy Ian's age living on an Indian reservation. The past two years, I have sponsored a little boy in the Phillipines who was born the same day as Ian, and I send him extra for Christmas. His mother wrote to tell me they used it to buy him clothes, food, shoes, and a toy. And it makes me smile. :)

4. I attend midnight mass. There is special symbolism in that for me on many levels. As a Christian I've been raised with it being at the core of my faith. Its a night we celebrate Jesus' birth ... the one who died for me... the one who took on more pain than I will ever know... the one who's mother also gave birth to a son she would eventually lose in ways beyond her control. But there was something inexplicably magical about the Christmas before Ian came along. As a mother, I remember sitting in midnight mass - this was before I was pregnant - and having an inexplicable feeling that something magical, wonderful was about to happen. I had no idea it would be Ian, but I wouldn't trade it or him for anything.

Every mom or dad who has lost a child has found a way in time to weave their little one's life into their own - it's a first step in going forward, and its a revelation - you can go forward and carry your little one with you always.

To all of you missing your child this holiday season, I send a hug from my heart to yours. I wish you peace, I wish you comfort, I pray for you to have hope, and I encourage you to share with others on here your way of remembering - you never know, your child can live on in what you do to help others through your own experience.